


I am... [T]

by aphchiptease



Series: RusAme/AmeRus writing requests [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Sad Ending, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 08:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12055119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphchiptease/pseuds/aphchiptease
Summary: Prompt: Alfred gets amnesia and forgets everything about Ivan.[Rated T+ for descriptions of violence and mentions of abuse]





	I am... [T]

**_I am…_ **

“Who are you?”

These were the first words to leave Alfred’s mouth when he awoke in the hospital after the crash. Ivan remembered the accident vividly, so blindingly vividly that it haunted him in his sleep and lurked in the back of his skull at day, coiled and rotting.

He and Alfred had been driving to their five year anniversary of being together. They had planned a celebration at Alfred’s suggestion of some cheap midnight diner, seeing as they were both low on money and working four jobs a week. But they never complained about the quality of the food, or the tightness of their apartment. Because they were happy men. They had friends, income, and a roof over their heads.

And they had each other.

On that road, slick from rain and dark from full night, Alfred had steered so straight-fast and sang loudly to the cheesy country song he had blaring on the speakers. Ivan had been laughing, he remembered, at how off-key his boyfriend was to the low and gravely voice of the cowboy popstar. And when their happiness together was peaked, so lovely and warm, Alfred deemed it best to pull over to the side of the road to indulge Ivan. They had spent only a few moments there, Alfred’s seatbelt off and Ivan’s still strapped snuggly to his chest, sharing friendly eskimo kisses and light strokes on Alfred’s shoulder, and Ivan’s neck. Just as Alfred began to turn back to the wheel, he was met with a pair of headlights out of his window barreling towards the car.

The crash was immediate. Ivan remembered regaining consciousness to see the side of Alfred’s head cracked open like an egg, blood flowing steadily onto the worn leather seat below him. How he dialed 911 and didn’t realize he was screaming until the operator informed him that they could not decipher his words through his screeches. And, most of all, how he held Alfred tenderly, placing gentle lips to the unbroken side of his head and stroked his golden hair. The ambulance came, and they managed to salvage both Alfred and Ivan alive - and here they were.

In those three words Alfred murmured, speech slurred from the morphine pooling in his veins, Ivan recalled the day that Ivan’s father had walked in on them necking in Ivan’s room. The boys were mere teenagers - Alfred being seventeen and Ivan a year his senior - and at the time, they had been best friends since they were both six and seven. Alfred had come over that day, Ivan’s family supposedly gone out to their favorite local restaurant and left him behind so he could crack open his textbook. But there was something special about that day, and neither quite knew what it was, that caused Alfred to cut the sentence short and lean forward to topple Ivan back as he pressed his lips shakily to the other’s. It escalated from there, much to the distaste of Ivan’s parents, who had returned from their restaurant early bearing the news that it closed down recently. The homophobes most certainly did not expect to walk in to find their son laying under another man, half undressed and chest covered in hickeys. 

They reacted violently, and after Ivan had sustained a broken nose and Alfred a black eye, the boys fled. They both knew that they could not live with their parents - Alfred’s father had lost his mother when he was very young, and had never been quite right since, tending to inflict blows on his two sons as a result of a night stinking of hard whisky. And Ivan’s parents were now obviously out of the picture. So Ivan and Alfred scraped enough together for a tiny apartment. From there, they both had full rides to Princeton for astrophysics, and Alfred planned to become a college professor and Ivan an astronomer for NASA. 

And there the two boys had been, driving along to some run-down midnight diner to celebrate their love and cherish their company. And now, here are the two men, stifled in the crisp white of the hospital. Alfred gazed groggily at Ivan, waiting intently for an answer to his question.

_Who are you?_

Ivan looked down onto his sun-kissed skin, the freckles that bounced from his cheeks, the fullness of his lips. His porcelain eyes. And Ivan knew where he must begin.

“I am…”

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the series of "RusAme/AmeRus writing requests". If you would like to request something, you can either do so directly on Ao3 or via my Tumblr (@aphchiptease).


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